Roses On Breeze

« there will doubtlessly be time for that later, » she mutters unimpressed, avoiding his gaze like the plague. she stands still like a statue, suddenly unsure of how she's supposed to move around him, with him. the simplicity with which they co - existed outside of these castle walls is long lost now.

« oh, do not tell me not to be a woman, » she snorts, momentary discomfort discarded for the easy banter they sport so well. « you are lucky you are bearable. » she sighs as she leans against the wall, eyeing him as he moves towards her. « you are not bad, carlton, » she clarifies immediately, gaze softening. « but you do not want this. you do not want the power, the responsibility, or me. » and she has trapped him here. « i fear you may grow to resent me. » and nothing would sadden her more. « i will assist you with whatever tasks my father will bestow upon you. i will give you a son. if you should wish to ... seek out other company, i will look the other way. i will not be a prison. »

They stand around each other with newfound formality. The sort Carlton despises, and Eden has unlearned over these last few weeks together. This place... Gods, what he'd do to be back in the countryside. "I have the same fears. I'm no diplomat, no perfumed aristocrat with good breeding and a powerful family." No, he's a King's bastard. The awkward and painful in-between. "Your friends and family will think you married an ogre."

In the moment of frank, harsh truths.. What Eden says is perhaps the most poignant. He does not dispel her fears; he was a free man now caught in a royal prison, and its doubtless he will rebel. "You will not be a prison, because you are my friend." Eden's proven it time and time again. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there." Once the lie is sold, the wedding parade is done, and they don't have as many eyes on them. He glances down at her hand. "We should get you a ring."

it was too late for any respectable reason for a visit, with the moon high and tian feng cloaked in all black as he skulked behind the bamboo screens. he'd waited, he'd watched, and the whole time his heart pounded in his chest like a war drum.

her name had finally appeared. midori, listed for death. the bounty for her removal enough to make a commoner feel like a king - not that tian feng cared for the money. or even, uncomfortably, the honor of it. or what he'd been taught was honor. now, he wasn't sure. only that war was coming, and the battlefield called once more.

tian feng didn't want to heed it's cry, and for the first time in his life, he hid there in the dark with fluttering heartbeats as he contemplated defiance instead of cold duty. when he sprung on her, the captain was sure not to hesitate, to seize the opportunity and be quick. he knew her tells, her schedule, the way her jaw would tick when she lied, and how she always kept an extra knife on her when alone. he could see the bulge of it under the stars, and knew the time was right.

silver pressed against her throat, another held with the tip pointed up into her sternum, and the wall was quick to come behind her before they both toppled over. the moment stretched in the dark, just eyes glittering from distant candlelight at one another, for a few tense, palpable seconds. she'd be dead, if he wanted her to be.

" marry me, midori. "

Midori kneels at the place of worship, ensconced in the royal residence in the countryside. A trip written as an 'Emperor's summer holiday' but known to all close to the crown as necessary meetings. One final, fleeting try for peace before the war drum plays. She should pray for peace, for the strength of country men as they rush to battle...

Instead, she prays for her commander. A sin to the colors she wears and the people she's sworn to protect. And so, she prays for forgiveness. The sin of her heart that's abruptly interrupted. Footsteps so silent she barely registers Tian Feng until the cold brush of his blade, the moon illuminating his skin.

It was always going to end up like this; death or marriage. She gulps, feeling the blade against her skin. Midori know it is love. But she also knows it is war, and Tian Feng's honor will always be the mistress of their relationship. "Will you kill me if I refuse?"

His brows raise — at face value, and what he believes it to be is him casting pure judgment at this supposed version of her. Though there's something doting in the way it comes across. But despite all the hours he spends looking at himself in the mirror, it is unbeknownst to him that he is looking at her this way. "I look forward to it. On the beach with a beautiful woman giving me compliments? I'm living every man's dream." It's said with the sort of wry touch, even though he means it. He's still entirely captivated by seeing her vacation attire — perhaps because he's actually seen her in nearly everything else. Charity galas and overpriced loungewear pulling all-nighters in law school. There's something new to it, to this.

Amusement doesn't dim as he watches her rationalize it to herself. "All above board." He promises. His gaze glances to where she'd squeezed his arm, feeling a warmth creeping up the back of his neck which he accounts to the drinks he had on the way there the stark sunlight kissing the back of his neck. He takes his time walking around the place, assessing the interior design, the cleanliness. It's all up to par. A standard fare for a luxury, private, villa. He stands behind the floor to ceiling windows, watching the ocean, so turquoise and unreal-looking. Pivots on his heel, with a look of approval. "We do. This makes me want to own property overseas, but I wonder how much I'd really get out of it." As she'd said, they work too much.

Made more prominent by the way he holds himself up. Like they are in court, battling out life-or-death cases. She lifts a challenging brow, "You sure you'd want a place by the beach? You look like you're still in New York." She understands the spine it takes, the focus it demands. But if Andrea of all people can let go, then so could he. To prove her point, she gives him a little nudge in the ribs with her elbow. "I think at this rate, you'll barely sleep at all." Deciding that at this juncture, she's the insistent and single-minded one, she stands up. "Come on, we'll fight out the sleeping arrangement later. Let's grab some champagne out of the fridge and get in the pool."

His spirits are alarmingly high, erring on manic — subdued by first-class, plane champagne, and the anthropological endeavour he's embarked on, observing Andrea in the wild; that is, out of her regular two-piece suit, in sunglasses. He's captivated in the same way tourists gawk in Times Square, but she's much classier and he doesn't gawk. It's just nice, he thinks, to see her like this. Relaxed? With him? Something else, in between the two.

And he's not going to stress it, because he stressed it packing, unsure how to properly fold his linens to minimize creasing and about whether he should bring condoms. Which is crazy, because they're not even — they haven't even — not going to, probably. Surely. Maybe? Even have the thought had humiliated him enough that his cheeks went beet red in the comforts of his barren apartment.

"Ugh," she can't help but groan in. "Forget I asked. I'm not in the habit of leaving my ethics out the door, but it's out of my jurisdiction, and I'm sure due process was followed, so--" So instead, she steps out of the cart and to the front steps of the villa. A soft 'thank you' as the hotel staff unload their suitcases (oddly, hers is smaller than Eetu's) while they're greeted to literal paradise. "Oh my God, look at this place." She gushes, giving his arm a squeeze.

"We work too much." She realizes, once their suitcases are rolled in and the valets tipped. Settling right onto the plush couch, overlooking the infinity pool, that then expands into the ocean. "Right," she's still Andrea after all, and she stands on business. "Want to take the master, and I'll take the living room?"

It's been fifty-eight minutes now. Almost an hour stuck without rescue or phone signal. Shay's chest was tightened, a feeling that had become familiar, manageable. Small spaces didn't get easier over time, but he'd learned to ride them out. Focus on breathing. Focus on details. Focus on anything except the door that wouldn't open and the walls that wouldn't move. Sitting down against a corner, legs stretched out, taking up space he didn't need, helped—hard to say why, but it helped. "Man, you'd think a building built this century could keep the elevators running," Shay said, simply for the record. "You wanna play a word game or something? I know all the best ones. I'm a teacher. Ex-teacher. Still got the pizazz."

in ravi’s mind, being single wasn’t the worst thing in the world. less responsibility, less expectations, more time to focus on his art. the hardest part had been the messy breakup. he was still trying to leave that behind him. which was part of the reason he found himself here tonight, standing in a bar so packed it felt like everyone was pressed shoulder to shoulder. he pushed his way through the crowd slowly, making his way back toward the bar for another drink. while he waited, his mind wandered. his eyes moved around the room, taking in the chaos of it all, the music, the conversations blending together. and that’s when he noticed her.

his ex-girlfriend’s sister.

However, she isn't morally virtuous or loyal enough not to fan the flames whenever Ravi is around. Stoking the flame, letting a lingering eye settle in his bones. As long as nothing happens, right?

"Me? What are you doing here?" Hana challenges back when he comes into view, with those dark eyes and darker locks that act as hooks for her naturally flirtatious nature. She's always liked him, and in the same vein, always wondered what he saw in her robotic big sister and her stuffy medical degree. "I've been in L.A. the last six months. Didn't you hear? I'm in an action movie." She boasts proudly, let's him see the entirety of her face as she does. Batting her eyelashes, she hums; "Mhm, thank you. You look good. You always look good." She eggs on, a nod to his drink.

"You buying me a drink, or what?"

« our survival, » she points out sharply, because whilst it's hard to believe coming out of the princess's mouth she had thought of carlton when the hasty decision had been made. in fact, she had only thought of him. her old betrothed and her early grave be damned. « and you may resent me for it all you like, but you must know — » her voice dies out. that she bears him affection ? that parting with him now would only twist the knife ? none of this can be spoken out loud, especially when he cannot and will not say the same.

« what luck that you did not exaggerate, » she mutters sarcastically, slipping down on the bed with a heavy sigh. « they will be expecting an heir, carlton. what do you suppose we do with that ? » they keep spinning this web and there's no way out of it now. gratitude grapples with annoyance. « now what happens ? i am sick of the secrets. » and the lies.

"I have a few ideas." Carlton teases back, a tired smirk as he settles onto the edge of her bed. "Shall I go into excruciating detail?" Easy to tease and play, when the alternative is confronting the dreaded state of things. Yet her seriousness wipes away the smirk on his face, replaced with a look of impatience and exasperation.

"This was your decision. I should be the one asking you that." Despite their newfound closeness, the banter never seizes, only made worse by their present circumstance. "Do not be such a woman and over-complicate the matter. We commit to the pretense. We let your father bestow a title upon me, make me acceptable--" As if a bastard son is an acceptable spouse, but they are where they are. "I make a honest wife out of you. Get to work on an heir. And we..."

Christ, she looks miserable. Carlton stands up from his seat, approaching her with as much gentleness as his rough persona can muster. "There are no more secrets, Eden. As far as everyone is concerned, we are married. It is out there. And as for marriage itself, well... Am I really so bad?" Untitled and a cad, but certainly kinder than her other options.